aelfgyfu_mead (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aelfgyfu_mead) wrote2011-08-16 09:49 pm
aelfgyfu_mead) wrote2011-08-16 09:49 pm
Recently read
Apparently I haven't posted about books I've read since 9 March. I have now delayed so long that I'm not certain in which order I read these books, and I'm not absolutely certain that I haven't reviewed one or two of them before. I might have missed a book or two, but probably not: I could find these books because I haven't put them away. (I just put away A Mercy by Toni Morrison, which I reviewed on 31 December 2010, and Tolkien's Hobbit, which I reviewed 9 March.)
Of course, I've now spent the better part of two hours digging up the books, writing the reviews, and making appropriate links, so I remember why I don't review books very often. (See my OCD and CDO icons on my userpic page.)
I try to keep spoilers to a minimum in the main post and note spoilers so that readers can avoid them.
Bram Stoker, Dracula
I had been thinking that I'd read Dracula during my early teen years, but at some point I realized that I hadn't. In one of those "working to keep the prices of textbooks down" moments that the big publishers have, Longman gave me a free copy of their Longman Cultural Edition of the book, despite the fact that I've never taught it and am unlikely ever to do so (as it postdates the medieval period a wee bit). I finally dug it out and read it this year.
I was pleasantly surprised by the book. I enjoyed it a lot. I was surprised at the prominence given the female characters, particularly Mina Murray. I'd expected (or half-remembered, perhaps from a movie version) the female characters to be more passive. I also find myself very fond of Jonathan Harker and some of the other characters. Even though I knew the broad outlines of the story, I felt a lot of suspense as I read it. I very much enjoyed the style: it pretends to be an accurate record of events as drawn from the various characters' journals and letters, and occasionally news accounts. We have a series of narrators, and the point of view never stays put for long (though Mina is the only female narrator).
If you haven't read the real novel, I recommend it. I'm not much into horror, which you won't believe after I've finished this entry, but it's true—I've had to walk away from Harlan Ellison. (I didn't walk away from "For I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream," which I still regret.)
Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites
On Discworld, women can only be witches, and men wizards, right? Witches help teach girls who seem talented; wizards hand over their staffs to boys shortly before they die. Except for the occasion when a wizard, about to expire, hands his staff to a baby girl. Much fun ensues. Need I say more? This isn't my favorite of the witch books (that's still and may always remain Wyrd Sisters).
By the way, I've been using this chart to help me read things in some kind of coherent order. It's not easy with Pratchett!
I haven't yet met a Discworld novel I wouldn't recommend.
Neil Gaiman, Stardust
Neil Gaiman and I have a very complicated relationship. I thought American Gods was absofreakinglutely brilliant. He also has a short story "Bay Wolf" (in Smoke and Mirrors) that I really enjoyed. (It was spawned by people mishearing him saying he was working on Beowulf as Baywatch. I mishear things all the time, often in laughable ways, but I can't imagine making that mistake.) Then, of course, his version of Beowulf (co-written with Roger Avary) came out, and you all know my opinion of that (or can look it up right here). He then wrote Anansi Boys, which I love with a burning passion, enough that I'll sigh and shake my head over his "a few dead Indians remark" (Google if you want to know about it; it's not pretty) but keep reading him anyway. I didn't like Coraline, so maybe I just don't like his YA novels. I hadn't realized Stardust was classed Young Adult until I'd bought it (and noticed it said "Harper Teen" on the back).
I didn't entirely dislike Stardust, but a very early scene soured me on it. SPOILERS FOR pp. 26-29 and a major consequence of them:
When I read that a "fairy" "intoxicated" a man, I'm not entirely sure that I believe her declaration "You are under no spell"; I was not comfortable with the sex scene that followed, because I might class it as a scene of dubious consent. I'd be less troubled if it weren't a teen novel, but having seen before I actually read the book that it was classed "teen," and remembering that I was reading teen books when I was Small Child's age (10), I was shocked to read a sex scene with some detail and less than clear-cut consent. I'm perhaps oversensitive to issues of consent. Most people probably wouldn't be bothered. Nor would I class the scene as "graphic," but it's certainly not the sort of thing that I have not before encountered in YA novels. (Apparently sex scenes have become far more common in YA novels since I was in my pre-teens and early teens.)
The protagonist then treats a woman rather badly for a while. Apparently this experience teaches him, and I did find him more sympathetic later, but between my concerns about consent, sex, and possibly misogyny, I found myself a bit reluctant to read. It did improve, but I don't think it's an awfully good novel. I wouldn't recommend it—and I don't want my daughter to read it any time soon. (From the way she has been behaving lately, it seems the best way to ensure that she doesn't is to recommend it enthusiastically, but it would be just like SC to choose that moment to see through my reverse psychology and read the book in one afternoon.)
I don't really recommend it. Read Anansi Boys instead.
Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad
Holy cow! Terry Pratchett takes on fairy tales and, by extension, Disney princesses! Go, Pratchett, go! Again, I'm afraid my measure of the witch books is Wyrd Sisters, and nothing quite equals that, but I would rank this above Equal Rites. The central characters are Magrat, whom I love, and Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg, whom I love too, in different ways. They have hysterically funny adventures, and Pratchett works out some very interesting thoughts on the power of stories—and the ethics of creating stories.
I repeat: I haven't yet met a Discworld novel I wouldn't recommend.
Margaret Atwood, The Year of the Flood
This book is the second in the MaddAdam trilogy, which began with Oryx and Crake (my review here). I wasn't sure I wanted to read more of this postapocalyptic trilogy, but Brilliant Husband didn't know that, and he told my brother to get me this book for my birthday or Christmas. Happy birthday or Christmas; have a nice end of the world!
Atwood writes very well, and she creates compelling characters. Unfortunately, she follows the same narrative strategy that she did with Oryx and Crake, and I started to feel that it was wearing a bit thin. She sets the novel's present after the apocalypse, and there is a thin storyline running through the present, but most of it is recollections of life before The Waterless Flood. (Again, she suffers by comparison: no one does this as well as Toni Morrison did it in Beloved, and I'm not sure anyone ever will again.) I got a bit impatient with the parallel storylines. I couldn't decide whether the fact that this book had two protagonist/narrators instead of one made it more or less frustrating. Atwood skillfully weaves past and present using two characters without ever getting redundant, so that we get complementary recollections of moments close in time rather than repetitive, but I felt that it moved a little slowly. I wanted to know how the two women got to the point of the book's present, but I also wanted to know what was going to happen to them.
She also weaves in bits of Oryx and Crake, which might have been more effective if I had a better memory for the details of that book. I think I was supposed to recognize one of the leads of this book from the previous novel, and I failed.
One element I found troubling: one learns early in the book that one of the two women has been working in a sex club called "Tails and Scales," and the other suffered some abuse (sexual, physical, you name it) in the past. I kind of expect it from Atwood: virtually no one emerges unscathed. She certainly doesn't treat these elements gratuitously but from a sympathetic stance, but if you're upset by these things, you've been warned.
BIG BUT VAGUE(?) SPOILER FOR THE SERIES If you're like me, you'll want to know if the end of this book comes after the end of Oryx and Crake, if there's any advance in the world of the series. Highlight to read if you want to know: The answer is yes, it ends shortly after the first book and advances that narrative a little, and we see Jimmy a little bit from the women's perspectives.
Edited: If you like postapocalyptic fare, you might want to read this series. Or you might not. I was thinking my own negative feelings about the book were mostly related to my general avoidance of postapocalyptic fiction, but my first two responses suggest that other weaknesses bothered other people as much or more as they bothered me.
Charles Stross, The Atrocity Archives, which is The Atrocity Archive (full-length novel) plus Concrete Jungle (novella)
You may recall that I didn't much like The Family Trade, first in Stross's Merchant Princes series, despite the fact that Paul Krugman thinks they're really fun and that the economics are worth discussing. (I even went so far as to post a poll to confirm my own lack of desire to read any more in that series.)
Thus I had no intention of reading anything else by Stross, but I suddenly realized I needed another book right before leaving on a trip, and BH tossed me this.
As I said, I don't really do horror. If I'd had anything else to read, I'd probably have put down this book after the first horrible thing happened. In the end, I was glad I kept reading. I really enjoyed The Atrocity Archive, once I got over the OMG factor, and I had so much momentum that even though BH had warned me there was a separate novella in it, I was pages into the novella before I realized I'd read right over the end of the first book and into the second. I didn't want to stop.
The universe looks a lot like ours, except that certain rather difficult mathematical operations can bring alternate universes into contact with ours and even allow things to come through. Those things look like creatures from Lovecraft. Demonic possession is possible. The vast majority of the population know nothing of this; a bureaucracy controls what most would consider "magic," including some pretty scary weapons.
Bob Howard found out about this bureaucracy, specifically the Laundry, some time before the novel begins (much like Pete and Myka find out about Warehouse 13). He takes his first steps towards become a field agent early in the novel. He's repelled by the horror of what he faces, but he also wants to help people. Moreover, he wants to escape a toxic government office atmosphere—it's government bureaucracy at its worst, and the fact that lives are at stake doesn't change the fact that you'd darned well better charge your hours to the correct project and follow the chain of command and do your requisitions properly!
As BH told me, it's almost more comedy than horror. Bob hates the bureaucracy, but he has to live with it. He also has to live with Pinky and the Brain. Really. Those are his flatmates.
The weakness of the novel is one that affected Merchant Princes: I think Stross has a little trouble writing women. With one exception, the women in the novel are shrews. I feel sexist even using the word—who ever describes a man as a shrew?—but I think that covers it. Bob has a horrible (ex)girlfriend, and the two women with whom he must deal directly at the office are like something out of The Office (except that in the one episode I've seen of the BBC version so far, the women aren't the big problem; here, they are).
Concrete Jungle actually takes a step forward with a major female character who seems to start out shrill, but she has her reasons. I don't want to give away too much, but Bob and I both warmed to her.
If you're at all into horror, you should read this book. If you have to deal with large government bureaucracies, you also might want to read this book.
Of course, I've now spent the better part of two hours digging up the books, writing the reviews, and making appropriate links, so I remember why I don't review books very often. (See my OCD and CDO icons on my userpic page.)
I try to keep spoilers to a minimum in the main post and note spoilers so that readers can avoid them.
Bram Stoker, Dracula
I had been thinking that I'd read Dracula during my early teen years, but at some point I realized that I hadn't. In one of those "working to keep the prices of textbooks down" moments that the big publishers have, Longman gave me a free copy of their Longman Cultural Edition of the book, despite the fact that I've never taught it and am unlikely ever to do so (as it postdates the medieval period a wee bit). I finally dug it out and read it this year.
I was pleasantly surprised by the book. I enjoyed it a lot. I was surprised at the prominence given the female characters, particularly Mina Murray. I'd expected (or half-remembered, perhaps from a movie version) the female characters to be more passive. I also find myself very fond of Jonathan Harker and some of the other characters. Even though I knew the broad outlines of the story, I felt a lot of suspense as I read it. I very much enjoyed the style: it pretends to be an accurate record of events as drawn from the various characters' journals and letters, and occasionally news accounts. We have a series of narrators, and the point of view never stays put for long (though Mina is the only female narrator).
If you haven't read the real novel, I recommend it. I'm not much into horror, which you won't believe after I've finished this entry, but it's true—I've had to walk away from Harlan Ellison. (I didn't walk away from "For I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream," which I still regret.)
Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites
On Discworld, women can only be witches, and men wizards, right? Witches help teach girls who seem talented; wizards hand over their staffs to boys shortly before they die. Except for the occasion when a wizard, about to expire, hands his staff to a baby girl. Much fun ensues. Need I say more? This isn't my favorite of the witch books (that's still and may always remain Wyrd Sisters).
By the way, I've been using this chart to help me read things in some kind of coherent order. It's not easy with Pratchett!
I haven't yet met a Discworld novel I wouldn't recommend.
Neil Gaiman, Stardust
Neil Gaiman and I have a very complicated relationship. I thought American Gods was absofreakinglutely brilliant. He also has a short story "Bay Wolf" (in Smoke and Mirrors) that I really enjoyed. (It was spawned by people mishearing him saying he was working on Beowulf as Baywatch. I mishear things all the time, often in laughable ways, but I can't imagine making that mistake.) Then, of course, his version of Beowulf (co-written with Roger Avary) came out, and you all know my opinion of that (or can look it up right here). He then wrote Anansi Boys, which I love with a burning passion, enough that I'll sigh and shake my head over his "a few dead Indians remark" (Google if you want to know about it; it's not pretty) but keep reading him anyway. I didn't like Coraline, so maybe I just don't like his YA novels. I hadn't realized Stardust was classed Young Adult until I'd bought it (and noticed it said "Harper Teen" on the back).
I didn't entirely dislike Stardust, but a very early scene soured me on it. SPOILERS FOR pp. 26-29 and a major consequence of them:
When I read that a "fairy" "intoxicated" a man, I'm not entirely sure that I believe her declaration "You are under no spell"; I was not comfortable with the sex scene that followed, because I might class it as a scene of dubious consent. I'd be less troubled if it weren't a teen novel, but having seen before I actually read the book that it was classed "teen," and remembering that I was reading teen books when I was Small Child's age (10), I was shocked to read a sex scene with some detail and less than clear-cut consent. I'm perhaps oversensitive to issues of consent. Most people probably wouldn't be bothered. Nor would I class the scene as "graphic," but it's certainly not the sort of thing that I have not before encountered in YA novels. (Apparently sex scenes have become far more common in YA novels since I was in my pre-teens and early teens.)
The protagonist then treats a woman rather badly for a while. Apparently this experience teaches him, and I did find him more sympathetic later, but between my concerns about consent, sex, and possibly misogyny, I found myself a bit reluctant to read. It did improve, but I don't think it's an awfully good novel. I wouldn't recommend it—and I don't want my daughter to read it any time soon. (From the way she has been behaving lately, it seems the best way to ensure that she doesn't is to recommend it enthusiastically, but it would be just like SC to choose that moment to see through my reverse psychology and read the book in one afternoon.)
I don't really recommend it. Read Anansi Boys instead.
Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad
Holy cow! Terry Pratchett takes on fairy tales and, by extension, Disney princesses! Go, Pratchett, go! Again, I'm afraid my measure of the witch books is Wyrd Sisters, and nothing quite equals that, but I would rank this above Equal Rites. The central characters are Magrat, whom I love, and Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg, whom I love too, in different ways. They have hysterically funny adventures, and Pratchett works out some very interesting thoughts on the power of stories—and the ethics of creating stories.
I repeat: I haven't yet met a Discworld novel I wouldn't recommend.
Margaret Atwood, The Year of the Flood
This book is the second in the MaddAdam trilogy, which began with Oryx and Crake (my review here). I wasn't sure I wanted to read more of this postapocalyptic trilogy, but Brilliant Husband didn't know that, and he told my brother to get me this book for my birthday or Christmas. Happy birthday or Christmas; have a nice end of the world!
Atwood writes very well, and she creates compelling characters. Unfortunately, she follows the same narrative strategy that she did with Oryx and Crake, and I started to feel that it was wearing a bit thin. She sets the novel's present after the apocalypse, and there is a thin storyline running through the present, but most of it is recollections of life before The Waterless Flood. (Again, she suffers by comparison: no one does this as well as Toni Morrison did it in Beloved, and I'm not sure anyone ever will again.) I got a bit impatient with the parallel storylines. I couldn't decide whether the fact that this book had two protagonist/narrators instead of one made it more or less frustrating. Atwood skillfully weaves past and present using two characters without ever getting redundant, so that we get complementary recollections of moments close in time rather than repetitive, but I felt that it moved a little slowly. I wanted to know how the two women got to the point of the book's present, but I also wanted to know what was going to happen to them.
She also weaves in bits of Oryx and Crake, which might have been more effective if I had a better memory for the details of that book. I think I was supposed to recognize one of the leads of this book from the previous novel, and I failed.
One element I found troubling: one learns early in the book that one of the two women has been working in a sex club called "Tails and Scales," and the other suffered some abuse (sexual, physical, you name it) in the past. I kind of expect it from Atwood: virtually no one emerges unscathed. She certainly doesn't treat these elements gratuitously but from a sympathetic stance, but if you're upset by these things, you've been warned.
BIG BUT VAGUE(?) SPOILER FOR THE SERIES If you're like me, you'll want to know if the end of this book comes after the end of Oryx and Crake, if there's any advance in the world of the series. Highlight to read if you want to know: The answer is yes, it ends shortly after the first book and advances that narrative a little, and we see Jimmy a little bit from the women's perspectives.
Edited: If you like postapocalyptic fare, you might want to read this series. Or you might not. I was thinking my own negative feelings about the book were mostly related to my general avoidance of postapocalyptic fiction, but my first two responses suggest that other weaknesses bothered other people as much or more as they bothered me.
Charles Stross, The Atrocity Archives, which is The Atrocity Archive (full-length novel) plus Concrete Jungle (novella)
You may recall that I didn't much like The Family Trade, first in Stross's Merchant Princes series, despite the fact that Paul Krugman thinks they're really fun and that the economics are worth discussing. (I even went so far as to post a poll to confirm my own lack of desire to read any more in that series.)
Thus I had no intention of reading anything else by Stross, but I suddenly realized I needed another book right before leaving on a trip, and BH tossed me this.
As I said, I don't really do horror. If I'd had anything else to read, I'd probably have put down this book after the first horrible thing happened. In the end, I was glad I kept reading. I really enjoyed The Atrocity Archive, once I got over the OMG factor, and I had so much momentum that even though BH had warned me there was a separate novella in it, I was pages into the novella before I realized I'd read right over the end of the first book and into the second. I didn't want to stop.
The universe looks a lot like ours, except that certain rather difficult mathematical operations can bring alternate universes into contact with ours and even allow things to come through. Those things look like creatures from Lovecraft. Demonic possession is possible. The vast majority of the population know nothing of this; a bureaucracy controls what most would consider "magic," including some pretty scary weapons.
Bob Howard found out about this bureaucracy, specifically the Laundry, some time before the novel begins (much like Pete and Myka find out about Warehouse 13). He takes his first steps towards become a field agent early in the novel. He's repelled by the horror of what he faces, but he also wants to help people. Moreover, he wants to escape a toxic government office atmosphere—it's government bureaucracy at its worst, and the fact that lives are at stake doesn't change the fact that you'd darned well better charge your hours to the correct project and follow the chain of command and do your requisitions properly!
As BH told me, it's almost more comedy than horror. Bob hates the bureaucracy, but he has to live with it. He also has to live with Pinky and the Brain. Really. Those are his flatmates.
The weakness of the novel is one that affected Merchant Princes: I think Stross has a little trouble writing women. With one exception, the women in the novel are shrews. I feel sexist even using the word—who ever describes a man as a shrew?—but I think that covers it. Bob has a horrible (ex)girlfriend, and the two women with whom he must deal directly at the office are like something out of The Office (except that in the one episode I've seen of the BBC version so far, the women aren't the big problem; here, they are).
Concrete Jungle actually takes a step forward with a major female character who seems to start out shrill, but she has her reasons. I don't want to give away too much, but Bob and I both warmed to her.
If you're at all into horror, you should read this book. If you have to deal with large government bureaucracies, you also might want to read this book.
no subject
*squints at the Atwood review* I was so very "meh" about the first book in the series that I still haven't figured out if I want to read more. Oryx & Crake started out fascinating, got steadily less so, and for a supposedly feminist author, she sure does have trouble writing women with agency.
no subject
Some of Atwood's other books do much better with female characters, as I recall, but she does tend to show women whose agency is compromised (most famously in Handmaid's Tale). I think she does better in The Year of the Flood, particularly if you compare the women with Jimmy from Oryx and Crake. I sure wouldn't urge you to rush out and read Year of the Flood, though, if you didn't like the previous book very much. I'm conflicted about both; I thought that was mostly because I'm very resistant to most postapocalyptic fiction, but I did have other problems with the novels as well.
no subject
I read Oryx and Crake around the time it first came out and enjoyed it overall. But I couldn't get into Year of the Flood for some reason. Maybe it's as you said that the narrative set up by Atwood had started to grow a bit thin.
I'd never heard of the Atrocity Archives but it sounds like something up my alley so I'll be giving that a read. It'll sit on my nightstand next to P.G. Janssen's Darkness Visible.
Not sure if you've heard of it but it's basically a Victorian steampunkish buddy movie on paper. Judging by Janssen's twitter account, it also seems she's a raging Sherlock and Cumberbatch fan which makes me smile. She did, however, make me feel like I'd accomplished nothing in my life so far after finding out she'd only recently turned 22.
no subject
I have not heard of Darkness Visible, but maybe I'll give it a whirl. 22? That's just disgusting! No wonder "she's a raging Sherlock and Cumberbatch fan." I swear there's an age cutoff below which one is more likely to be more of a Cumberbatch fan and above which one is more likely to favor Freeman. (I haven't worked out Rupert Graves; he seems to have less . . . vocal fans, shall we say?) I love all three of the men of Sherlock, but Watson/Freeman best.
Now I'm thinking I should tone down my concluding line recommending The Year of the Flood. I had very mixed feelings but attributed them mostly to my general dislike of postapoc.
no subject
Having now watched Sherlock Series 1 a ridiculous number of times, I think I like all three actors' performance about equally, though I'd say Martin Freeman surprised me the most as I'd never seen him do a dramatic role until this one.
no subject
no subject
I (really) liked the book, but was way less keen on the film. A friend absolutely adores the film, but didn't like the book. My issues with the film were different from my book issues. I can't remember why I wasn't that fussed on the film. I think it may have strayed more than I was happy with from the book. Don't get me wrong, I was glad to lose certain specific aspects of the book, but I think they changed other aspects.
However, I think if you enjoyed the book, except for the issues you mentioned, I think you might like the film.
Scene in Stardust
When I first read the sex scene, warning bells went off. When I looked at it again last night to write my review, my first thought was, "Why on earth did I react that way?" The fairy (or faerie) specifically says there's no spell. The cynic in me says that's Gaiman trying to deny that there's any problem with consent. Then again, why does Gaiman have to deny that there's any problem with consent? Because the human character is described as "intoxicated," and he's having sex with a woman he has just met. I think I'm hypersensitive to consent issues because of students I've had in the past. I don't want to go into details, of course, but I know people who have had problems from both sides—including one who was convicted of a crime. (I knew that person years before the conviction. I was floored when I realized the person in the newspaper had been a student of mine. I'd never given a thought to whether a student of mine might do something like that.)
Yes! I feel very similarly about sex scenes. I know that people do it, just as I know that they use the toilet, but I don't need to read the details. I especially don't want the details in YA books!
I have so many movies and other shows to watch that I don't feel the need to see Stardust on the screen, but if we happen across it, maybe I'll give it a chance.
Re: Scene in Stardust
Yes! I feel very similarly about sex scenes. I know that people do it, just as I know that they use the toilet, but I don't need to read the details. I especially don't want the details in YA books!
For me, it's all about context and expectation. (You should see my browser history and fic reading...) With Stardust it was both completely unexpected and IIRC, kinda crude. And both of these together, just threw me; it was out of context. (Reading fic, I know mostly what to expect, and am mostly fine with it there.)